


Strange Moon

by Taz



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Incest, Kink, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taz/pseuds/Taz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iolaus recounts the events of a midnight excursion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Moon

Herc? No he’s not here...why do you ask?

Oh.

Sorry, I know, but you see every time the moon’s full bellied like that and his blanket’s empty on the other side of the campfire, I remember… just say I can’t sleep and leave it at that.

Hey, I’m no prude! That is not the issue! And I don’t care what you’ve heard, it’s never been his problem either, but this goes way beyond...

Hell, I remember when Nemesis was first mortal and they’d spent a night together in a livery stable. I went to wake him the next morning. The blanket had slipped off; he was lying there exposing that golden-brown body from neck to sculpted ass to ankle so…What?…You wish, but she was already up…So I nudged him a little and he rolls over before he’s even half-awake with this monumental morning hard-on, grabs my hand and applies it to the stiff bit. You can bet I smacked his ass smartly and when his eyes flew open and he saw it was me and not her, he didn’t even pretend to blush—he just grinned…you know I still remember the smoke in those blue eyes.

And then she turned up with the baby, and told Herc that Evandar was his son. I still don’t know if she lied out of guilt or because she really believed that was the only way he’d help her or maybe she wished that was the way it’d been. Whatever, she lied. And because of that, he really cut loose on Ares for the first time.

Taken all together, it’s left me with ambivalent feelings about Nemesis—but that’s peripheral to this story.

Like I said—it was the moon that woke me up. (Didn’t I say it was the moon?) It was late summer, and the moon was so big and bright you could almost read a scroll by it.

I looked over where Hercules was sleeping, he wasn’t there, and I figured he’d be back in a few moments. A guy has some personal needs he may want privacy to take care of and when he comes back to his bedroll, five minutes later he’ll be snoring his head off again.

But half an hour passed and no old buddy, so I finally figured out that he’d gone down to the river. It was one of those hot, sticky nights you still get in early September and he must have gone down for a bath.

Well, our camp was in a grove back from the water, because around there the trees are thick all the way up to the riverbank and then there are stones and boulders right into the deep part. The water is green and cold and runs fast there, and the rocks are mossy and even demigods can slip and crack their heads. So now I’m worried. I get up, skin my pants on and head for the water.

The first thing that alerted me (Made me glad I hadn’t been yelling my fool head off as I came through the pines.) was the sound of angry voices—because I recognized the one that wasn’t Herc’s—Ares’.

I sneaked up close and crouched in the shadows behind some cedar scrub to check out the situation. (‘Cause I’m always trying to maintain my status as an innocent bystander at these family get-togethers—that’s why!) Spreading the brush, I could see them standing on a large flat rock in the water, practically nose to nose—the better to snarl at each other.

I was right, Herc had been in the water; he was still dripping and his body just shone in the moonlight. I couldn’t tell it from where I was hiding, but he must have been covered with goose flesh. I could see how tight and hard his nipples were. That river is glacier fed and damned cold. His balls were tucked tight right at the top of his thighs.

When he’s dressed, Herc looks so well proportioned that it’s actually difficult to tell how big he is. (Yes, damn it, unless I’m standing next to him!) But when he’s naked, you can see how long his legs are despite the corded muscles so there’s something a little gawky and almost fawn-like, about him. (I know, I know—the honey colored hair and innocent blue eyes don’t help much. Trust me, he just ‘looks’ innocent.) But he’s like a full-grown buck too—powerful in the shoulders, chest and haunches.

As for the hair on the rest of his body, it’s light gold over his pecs, but as it goes down it gets darker and thicker until it’s dark and curly around his sex. Tonight it was all smooth tendrils against his skin and his cock and balls stood out more than usual against it. They’re the same dusky rose-brown color as his nipples and a lot bigger than the immature looking items the sculptors and vase painters are so fond of depicting these days—a lot bigger. (Stop laughing at me! I may not be so inclined, but I’m human and it’s impossible not to admire something that naturally beautiful.)

Anyway, Ares wasn’t wet, although he was just as naked, you could see the thick pelt of fur patterning his chest and belly was the same color as the black hair whipping around his face and shoulders and that was longer than I’d ever seen it. His head was tilted and his jaw was thrust forward, I could see that his lips were pulled back, the moonlight flashed off his canine teeth. That night he obviously wasn’t armed with his bronze sword, but you’d have had to be struck blind to miss the erection curved like the edge of a _kopis _aimed at Herc’s gut. Beauti...(I am being objective!)

Ares was smirking and I could tell the subject of their ‘discussion’ was Nemesis. He must have been describing what she was like in bed. And he was nailing it—I saw his hands mime the motion of her hips and Herc’s fists were clenching and unclenching. Then Ares leaned over, his mouth was only inches from Herc’s throat, and I thought he was asking, ‘Did she come when you...like she did when I...’ (Yes—there was a time I believed Ares was that simple.)

Herc’s open hand against his chest rocked him back, but it gave him all the permission he needed to pile on—and boy, did he. I expected a Thracian stand-down. (You know—both of them bashing at each other until one of them is senseless or someone else interferes…Okay, I admit it; my non-combatant status is pretty shaky sometimes.) But as I said, the rocks were mossy and Herc was barefoot. He slipped and went in, banging his head.

I stood up, thinking I was going to have to go rescue the demigod again, but Ares surprised me. He bent down and caught Herc by the hair. Fished him out like a bear landing a salmon.

Then the really strange things started happening.

The bolder was rough and Herc’s thighs had gotten scraped; I could see what had to be blood and some smears that would have been mossy green in daylight.

Ares knelt and looked him over as though he actually cared if little brother got a bump, but Herc kept twisting and grabbing at his wrists so I knew he wasn’t unconscious. But all that writhing was interfering with the examination until Ares straddled his waist and put his knees on Herc’s arms. That kept him pinned while Ares checked the side of Herc’s head.

There was a little trickle of blood, but when Ares figured out for himself that Herc was all right, he gave him a light cuff on the ear that surprised me by almost being gentle. And he stayed bent over Herc like that for a few moments, I saw him rubbing the ball of his thumb over Herc’s lower lip and whispering to him. I had crouched back down again (You can stop wondering…it was just so intimate…of course, I was wildly curious. Fortunately, I hadn’t laced my pants.) Things were not going according to script but I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Ares stood up, with his feet on either side of Herc’s knees. My mouth was open already and I started to pant. My brain was thinking: ‘That god is dead.’ before I put it all together and thought, ‘Oh Zeus, he isn’t!’ But he was! A glittering arc of piss was splattering all over my best friend’s body for seconds before I heard the plashing sound above the river noise and I thought, ‘Herc’s gonna get up, and rip him limb from limb.”

But he didn’t. He giggled. And let Ares piss all over him...laughing the entire time.

I have no idea how long it lasted. Ares gushed like the Nile flooding over the second cataract and he was making little pools and geysers of spume as he sprayed Herc’s crotch and thighs. I could smell it, and we’re not talking cinnamon and cloves here, it was like catching a whiff of timber wolf. And that’s what Ares reminded me of a little—a wolf, thoroughly marking his claim. Or, since he was chortling like an idiot too—of a lover who’s done something really clever to please his beloved.

Herc lay there and let Ares baptize him. His back was arched and he spread his thighs so Ares could aim at his cock. I’ll tell you the truth… For just a moment, I could imagine how that stream hot as the god’s blood, must have felt on Herc’s river cold skin… It must have been like feeling Ares coming all over him…an orgasm that goes on forever.

(What? Yup, standing up straight as Pompey in front of Julius Caesar...Oh be quiet! It’s just a figure of speech...wha?...you’re right, I should find another analogy.)

But, even the God of War can’t pour all night, and when he was down to the last few spurts, he knelt again, only this time between Herc’s legs. He put his hand over the one Herc had wrapped around his cock and I still couldn’t hear what he said. I don’t see how Herc could’ve either, the way he was tossing back and forth, totally careless of the stone he was lying on, but I heard him scream Ares’ name while he came, cum fountained over their joined hands.

After that, Herc was quiet, Ares leaned over and nuzzled his face. They kissed for a little, Ares letting Herc recover, and I sat on the ground and tried to pull myself together.

I was starting to understand how profoundly I’d misread the entire situation. But long before I was ready to come to terms with what I’d seen, Ares was ready to go. And for him, clean up was simple—he just rolled Herc into the water, ducked his head under a couple of times, and ignored the yelps.

When he pulled him out, he turned Herc face down on the rock and let him snuggle on a godly forearm while he ran the other hand possessively down Herc’s spine a few times. One of his fingers disappeared into the crack in Herc’s ass. The pumping motion was unmistakable.

I watched him finger fuck Herc until Herc was gnawing on the wrist under his cheek and lifting his ass for more. Ares didn’t seem to mind the biting. The entire time I’d been watching, he hadn’t come. Now he pushed between Herc’s legs, snaked an arm under his waist and lifted up that beautiful ass. I couldn’t see his hand but I knew he was stroking Herc’s cock the whole slow time he took to penetrate him.

And while he was being impaled, Herc’s face was transfigured. The only word I can think to describe it is ‘blissful’. His eyes were closed and his mouth open just a little. Herc was completely silent but he responded to every thrust with the tiniest bounce of his body and by spreading his thighs a little more. He really couldn’t move. I could see the tension in Ares shoulders and in the arm that he had around Herc’s waist and his skin was just as wet as Herc’s from sweating. I swear I heard him growling. Then he leaned over, bit the back of Herc’s neck and hung on—still growling I think, and Herc started to moan. He arched over Herc as he thrust, taking hard fast strokes, and the moaning became raspy. I could see blood on Herc’s shoulder and Ares strokes came short and quick.

I could tell when he started to come; he let go, buried his face between Herc’s shoulder blades and rammed into his body as hard and deep he could. He filled Herc’s ass as Herc squirted the rocks and groaned.

No, that wasn’t entirely the end of it. (Me? None of your business when.) Ares was panting as hard as I was but he sat back and pulled Herc into his lap. (I think he was still inside of him.) He stropped his cheek on the side of Herc’s head, they kissed, their tongues flicking together, and I thought ‘maybe it’s not them, maybe it’s a pair of forest gods having a joke on me.’ Then they both looked up at the moon. Ares smiled and all I could see was how sharp his teeth were. Herc’s head was tilted back, his neck graceful and powerful as a stag.

I was shaking so hard, I had to crawl away on my hands and knees and make my way up the riverbank until I could find an easy spot to get down. Then I took off my pants and plunged in. Yes, I had to wash them out but, even more, I had to let the black water turn my body to ice because, frightened as I was, I wanted to see them do it again. Now...don’t ask anymore questions. Please.

 

 _Finis_

 


End file.
